Concerning My Citizenship

Now, Mr. Red Suit, I know we haven't known each other very long, but would you mind not facing that gun barrel at me? I mean, face it at your enemy. That man across the way, playing with himself in the restrooms, and staring at the man next to him in the urinals. Who wouldn't consider him an enemy--a man named Mr. Blue Suit...he's impossible! But let's chase him, and I'll tell my tale and as to why it relates to your quest.

To start off, he broke up with me. It was a classic, "It's not you, it's me" situation. He said I had a mouth. A big mouth, and not in a kinky sort of way. He told me it would get me in trouble, shouting out equal rights. Ironically, I told him I wasn't preaching equal rights, but I was preaching for a bit of equal common sense. Let's simply put it this way: as a gay man, women, or...you know...I can honestly say that I am tired of walking down the street hearing citizens complain. Pesky gays complaining about rights? What rights? You're a few steps lower than the minorities who fled across miles of desert, and you're three-fifth's the weight it take for a squad of policemen and dogs to get under your skin! You might as well put on your football jersey over you princess costume, and suck it up. And, if I had followed my own adivse, he wouldn't have broken up with me.

All because I couldn't stand not being myself. I see teenagers walking around high and drunk and having sex in restrooms--but in that situation we're better off blaming the parents. But what about my (our) situation? You see me in the women's section looking at bracelets and it's the devils fault and his sin! It could never be my parents fault for not letting me explore my sexuality a bit, or Mr. Red Suit up on the hill. You'd figure they'd sit down and say, "Listen. I know you're gay. You can have your rights. I mean, hell! We're married and we have sex like two drunken bucks in a cage, ramming our horns together. All out of male bonding, of course." But it never happens, and I'm pissed off!

Look! We've almost caught him. Run! Run! We almost have the devil lover.

Continuing, I don't consider myself a citizen anymore. I mean, I can't walk around and talk about rights without getting the crap beaten out of me. I don't have life, liberty, and the chance at happiness unless I pack up and move across the ocean. But then I'd have to make new friends, and I'd go alone. B******s! You took my boyfriend. Mr. Red Suit, I hope you're listening. I'm implicitly forced to hide my sexuality. Yes, cudo's for Sex in the City and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy...but what about everyone else? Wait, I didn't hear you. You're telling me that you expect me to sit here while people carve a path for gays with forks! Hell, I could do it with an axe if you didn't laugh and I say I were out of place.

But hey, look! We're here. Now, I know what you're thinking, "What are you doing? You took my gun!" Yes, I know. And I'm facing it at you. There's nothing wrong with a man in blue running. He's making progress. More than your forks. We have too many of those in our lives growing up, and I'm tired of ruining my good shoes for you. But you burn your books, and see where you'd be without your gays to make your suits or to come up with your newest sensation. Let's face it, we're creeping and crawling up to the top of your hill. We're already there, trying to find a way to infest it all. We will rewrite your books, and fight a war.

I'm confused more about my standing as a citizen, than my sexuality. You've taken away my happiness with my mother (my father won't look at me), relationships with 'em all. What do you expect me to do? I must be a monster; a horrible person for being born, isn't that right? I evil and full of sin, because I can't pray in the same bench as you. I'd be burned alive! But I guess you can consider this our Trials, and some day this magical judgement will end, because we won't float or fly back up when you push us off a cliff. But imagine those dreams Mr. Blue Suit has, running free with his ambition. Imagine what art he will form...and, ironically, thanks to you for holding him back. You don't deserve a thing, but the comparison of hell and your true colors.